


greased lightning isn't as smooth as you'd think

by translevi



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Violence, Outing, Past Abuse, Trans Male Character, past johnny/lola, trans jimmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/translevi/pseuds/translevi
Summary: It doesn’t take much time for him to notice Jimmy. While Johnny wasn’t much interested in new kids joining the academy, he wasn’t expecting them to be lingering on his turf either.





	greased lightning isn't as smooth as you'd think

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down and wrote this in one, painful 5 hour sitting.  
> not proof-read

It doesn’t take much time for him to notice Jimmy. While Johnny wasn’t much interested in new kids joining the academy, he wasn’t expecting them to be lingering on his turf either. There’s only one person the guy could be, and that’s the new kid. The new kid that was currently comfortably leaning against the counter of the auto-shop, talking up Neil. Johnny’s so invested in eyeing him up - _no discernable clothing, standard uniform, no clique attachment(?), recruitable maybe?_ \- that he doesn’t pay attention to the conversation. Neil notices him first and he drops his hands on the desk, the smacking sound makes New Kid flinch and Johnny doesn’t have time to think about that before Neil is waving him over for a closer look. New Kid is even more confusing up close, small but fiery, shaved head and _glaring_ , putting on display a set of scars on his head that probably has a story behind it.

New Kid pushes off before he gets a word out, waving without turning back and exiting the shop without  another word. Johnny doesn’t know what to make of that.

A lot happens in the months following that, New Kid falls in with Gary, New Kid breezes in and out of the auto-shop at leisure, unconcerned with the surrounded greasers that call the area their turf. Johnny finds out New Kid’s name is Jimmy. Then Johnny overhears about the _fight_.

_“Did you see the fight between Jimmy and Russell today?”_

Johnny’s walk slows and he grimaces. Jimmy was short next to him and Russell is giant, he can only imagine what kind of state the kid is in. He might actually stop by the nurse’s office to check on him, he might not be a greaser - _yet_ \- but he hung out around the auto-shop enough for Johnny to know him enough to care.

_“It was unbelievable.”_

He’s just on the edge of turning on his heel when her friend responds.

_“I know right? I can’t believe Jimmy won.”_

He jerks to a complete stop, mind trying to catch up. That little pipsqueak beat _Russell_?

_“He’s trans too, I had no idea- I mean he passes so well…”_

His lips furrow and he starts off again. Jimmy gets bumped up _several_ notches on the priority and threat ladder in his mind. He’s about to offer him a position in the greasers next time he sees him, but the image of Jimmy vicious and hissing his way through the crowd is enough to make him step back. Gary played him, he might not want to be near anyone right now.

Months later in winter, when he _knows_ Lola is cheating on him, the image floods back to him. His boys couldn’t do it, the other cliques couldn’t do it, an uninvolved, unaffected student would get right to the point. Jimmy was the perfect candidate. Peanut comes back with a twisted apprehensive face and he knows the answer before he opens his mouth to tell him. Johnny’s pissed, of course he is, caught up in Lola’s web and now the _New Kid_ was telling him to get lost.

Which is why he’s so surprised when he shows up. The rolling grate of a skateboard on asphalt echoes easily in the dark of the night and when he looks up it could only _be_ Jimmy skidding to a stop a few yard from the underpass. He kicks it up and into his hands with a practiced ease and is only a few steps pass Johnny under the bridge when he steps out behind him.

“So you came?”

Jimmy stops and for once, turns to face him - bored, unaffected, waiting.

“Yeup.”

He has to know, has to be laughing at him. Here’s the king of the greasers getting help from a pauper.

“I bet you think I’m funny don’t you? A laughing stock…”

Jimmy has the audacity - something Johnny will come to find he has a _lot_ of - to look bored still, and he shrugs.

“Not really, I mean you dress a little weird but…”

He’s too caught up in Lola to pay attention to the barb, tripping over his words when he tells Jimmy to meet him by the underpass tonight - he raised a brow at him, gaze flickering past Johnny towards the dark of the world behind him - to get proof.

And proof he receives. Johnny didn’t want it to be true, was hoping that Jimmy would come back with nothing and his paranoia could be laid to rest. Instead he gets pictures of _Gord_ with _his queen_. Jimmy walks away 20 bucks richer, headed towards the warm of the dorm. He gets to the top of the hill and drops his skateboard onto the ground before pushing off, leaving Johnny alone with the pictures and the world. Rage bubbles into misery and in an impulsive fit he rips the photos to shreds, wasting his 20 and his time.

He doesn’t have anything to go after Lola with, shredded photos buried and soggy under the weight of snow, but sorrow gives way to hate again and when he drags Jimmy into it this time it’s for _revenge._

Jimmy rips into the BMX park with Gord at his heels and he’s so focused on Gord he only catches the flames of hell coming to life in Jimmy’s eyes out of his peripheral and he’s so _off-guard_ by it he almost misses slamming his bat into Gord’s face. _Almost_.

Through the fight he catches flashes of Jimmy, Jimmy who was more skilled on a bike than he had originally thought, Jimmy who held no remorse about throwing a firecracker at a prep - a clique under _his_ control - point blank.

The preps crawl out of there, running back to Old Bullworth Vale and his aching hatred is satisfied.

“Here’s your cash--”

Still staring after the long-gone forms of the preps, it’s only when he turns to _look_ at Jimmy that his tongue falters. He may be content with revenge but it’s the fight that brought Jimmy to life, muscles coiled and gaze _ready_ for more. He can take Jimmy, he’s sure, he’s still just some scrawny kid, and his boys are everywhere beside him. The fire burning in him still strikes some cold kind of _something_ through Johnny and he clears his throat, muttering out _“Now scram”_ and only relaxing finally when Jimmy disappeared past the closed door.

“You okay boss?” Vance asks, looking right through him. He turns to look back towards the door, _wondering._

“That punk say something to ya?”

“No,” Johnny replies, finally, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly. “He’s fine.”

It’s what Jimmy _didn’t_ say that terrifies him.

 _“Jimmy wuz here”_ pops up under the underpass and there are sprays everywhere in new coventry. A few make him laugh, surprisingly, scarily accurate as they were. He suspects but he doesn’t call out Jimmy, only one spray had his name. It’s not Lola, he can think logically about this.

Things are going _relatively_ fine for once when _Gary_ make an unfortunate appearance, saddling up to his side all concerned.

“Now friend,” Gary begins and rage brings the image of Jimmy to mind; Jimmy who Gary _outed_ \- accidental or not.

“It’s not my place to intrude on people’s relationships, but as far as _I_ knew you and Lola were still together.”

Lola makes him blank, and when Gary informs him that Algie is entertaining his woman something vicious snaps in him and he takes off, rounding up his clique and dragging Gary along with them.

Gary in turn leads him and his boys to Cornelius and they threaten and prod until they get what they want.

“I told you he’d know where Algie was.” Gary chimes, like it’s some kind of victory and the only thing that comes to mind is Jimmy, in that hole with Russell, outed to the whole school against his will.

“Shut up, Gary.” He practically growls and _then_ informs his boys to bring Algie back to the clubhouse and take care of Cornelius. His tunnel vision prevents him from seeing Jimmy, watching.

They don’t show up after 15 minutes, which turns into 30, which turns into an hour. Hours. When his anger is bleeding into concern, his clique crawls back to him, bruised and bloody and he finds out that _Jimmy_ is working against him now and he wonders how much of that is his own fault.

Johnny’s never been the best about managing his emotions, he’s obsessive and quick to anger, he knows that, and everything whirling in him has him on edge; maybe that’s why he finally decides to go after Lola.

He confronts her about Gord and it hurts worse than he ever thought it would because _“why the fuck are you doin’ this to me, Lola?”_ and of course she doesn’t have an answer but he doesn’t want to end it there because every fear about never being good enough is bubbling out of his throat and threatening to drown him. “Don’t you love me?”

And Lola, innocent, sweet and doe-eyed; all of none of those things when she didn’t want something, presses up against him, crying out _“Of course I love you Johnny!”_ like it breaks _her_ heart that his is shattering.

“No you don’t.” The image of her with Gord fresh in his mind.

“Love is complicated.” And there’s that sly undercurrent of _promise_ in her voice, teasing with something he doesn’t want anymore

“It didn’t seem ‘complicated’ between you and that Gord-o kid-- _I’m_ _gonna kill him_.”

She presses closer still, slipping between sickeningly sweet and sly. She doesn’t want him - but she doesn’t want to lose him either.

And then Jimmy’s there.

Of course, the universe would be kicking him now, make a fool of the man who’s only crime was love.

Jimmy’s “looking for him” and he doesn’t believe it for a damn second, but of course Lola intervenes, using the tension to shift the heat away from her deeds. A race is brought up and he thinks back to the BMX park, when him and Jimmy were on the same side and Jimmy was a hellfire tornado to be messed with. Still, he spits _“Ain’t no one fast like me”_ and Lola pushes it until the topic is switched completely.

Johnny loses. The final nail in his self-built coffin. He’s lost Jimmy, he’s lost Lola, and unfortunately for him - they found each other.

The clique abandons Lola like they abandoned Jimmy, the court submitting to the whims of the king, no matter how weak and distressed he might be.

Things are, of course, never that simple for Johnny Vincent and when he finds out from Norton that Jimmy busted ass through the tenements, only taking Lola’s stuff, he knows the worst is yet to come. His boys are bruised and banged to hell, and then the preps want in.

He’s not sure if it’s a fight over Lola or Jimmy sending his army after their sworn enemy, but shit goes down and when one of his boys runs up to him out of breath and yelling about Jimmy, he knows shits about to get worse. Norton is pressed up against a cop’s car being patted down and his boys take priority over any beef he has with Jimmy. A brick goes flying and Norton jerks away far enough to take off and in the ensuing havoc he’s face to face with his waking nightmare; _Jimmy Hopkins_. Jimmy, who is standing over three of his boys, bloody and roughed up with no backup in sight. This is the kid that beat Russell, so what does that mean Jimmy’s going to do to him?

He catches him by surprise enough to land one punch that drops him but even _that_ feels wrong. Like Johnny should be submitting to Jimmy instead of trying to hurt him. He doesn’t want to know why he cares about him so much. The cops show up and looking back, Jimmy’s wrenched a bike from someone and is following after Johnny. That fire is back and if he weren’t so focused on _not_ getting arrested, he’d bail.

His boys trip Jimmy up and he falls into the junkyard, landing hard. It doesn’t wind him, not anymore than riding the bike did, and when he jerks onto his feet he just looks _more_ pissed off. He has the advantage, he’s still on his bike, but Petey shows up out of nowhere and even _Jimmy_ looks startled which speaks volumes about the teen in front of him. A teen who rolled out specifically to beat Johnny’s ass without any plan for backup. His bike helps for a little bit, but Jimmy counters him and takes out his gang with his slingshot and then his bike is _gone_ and Jimmy is on him with a rage he can’t counter. Johnny doesn’t want to hit him, but Jimmy has no reservation and by the time he’s sprawled out in the snow he’s accepted his fate, staring up at the sky bloody and cold.

“Alright” He chokes out, hurting more than just physically. “I give up, you can have her.”

And _Jimmy_ , has the _audacity_ to act confused.

“Lola?” He questions, staring up at him. “You win. She’s yours.”

Jimmy’s face twists into a bitter disgust and he informs him, simply, that Johnny can “keep that slut” for himself.

His mind is reeling, he’s cold, bloody, and everywhere hurts. Only one thing comes to mind; why?

Jimmy, with that burning _brilliant_ fire, spits blood into the snow - remnants from where Johnny had hit him - and bites that not only did he did it to prove he was stronger, but also that Johnny works for him now.

By the end of the night, Johnny is shrugging out of his jacket and passing it off as a trophy to Jimmy (an eternal reminder of his defeat) and limping back to the tenements with his wounded clique - and pride - in tow. His clique is already in agreement, Jimmy beat all of them, there’s nothing else to explain.

* * *

He’s standing on the sidelines, greasers surrounding him months later when Jimmy takes control of the jocks in front of the majority of the town, establishing himself as the king. He doesn’t look away from Jimmy the entire time, barely even remembers to blink. Peanut and Norton are at his side, Norton simply watching the way Jimmy moved. Peanut is looking at him, Johnny can see that out of his peripheral. Something obsessive and manic twisting around his insides as his mouth goes dry. He wants to be closer, wants more.

Gary happens, again.

He saddles up to his side in the dorm, pulling the other clique leaders in while Jimmy’s gone and twisting a putrid tale of lies and deception. Johnny knows better than to trust Gary, should know better than to _listen_ , but he’s becoming more and more illogical where Jimmy’s concerned and that hatred rolls through him while the school revolts.

Rats, the Gym, and he’s thinking of what the _hell_ is going on when his parents ask him to come home. They’re waiting in the living room when he gets there, orderlies at their sides and faces twisted into twin expressions of displeasure.

He hates the asylum, hates the screaming hates the orderlies, is terrified of the drugs. No one knows where he is, absolutely no one. He doesn’t even know if anyone saw and he thinks of his boys and _Lola_ and then his thoughts shift to Jimmy. Vibrant, angry, explosive Jimmy, who he’s never going to see again most likely. Who he’s supposed to hate.

Who is standing right in front of his cell door.

“Jimmy?” He questions and his voice cracks and _‘what kind of drugs am I on?’_ but it’s the same, infuriating Jimmy Johnny knows and--

It’s Jimmy and he sets out with the intention to get Johnny the hell out of there and by god, if Jimmy wants something done he’ll do it.

He’s out half an hour later, Jimmy in orderly uniform beside him dusting off his clothes. Even if Johnny hates him right then, Jimmy looks out for his own, and that’s admirable. Johnny runs off home, countering the conflicting emotions swirling through his chest and tells the clique that Jimmy is no friend of theirs just to be safe.

He hears the announcement that Jimmy’s being summoned to the office, catches a glimpse of Gary slinking around and then Jimmy is _gone_. Expelled. It winds him and twists deep while every emotion melds together perfectly for the riot Gary unleashes them into.

Jimmy crashes back into school with Russell and the Townies at his heels, baying like the hounds of hell and Jimmy re-introduces his face to the floor before whipping him and the other clique leaders back into submission.

“Your attention please:” Gary announces for the school to hear, students and teachers alike waiting with bated breaths for Jimmy to return. “Jimmy is _complete_ human trash.” Rage boils and he _almost_ runs in there after Jimmy just to teach Gary a lesson but Peanut holds him back.

Vance flutters nervously at his side and there’s a loud shattering sound that has everyone looking up towards the roof.

Nobody can hear anything, fear and adrenaline and _nerves_ holding everyone still before the door is pushed open some long, _long_ minutes later and Jimmy struts out victorious.

The school shrieks it’s cheers for the return of the king and Johnny yells his own excitement, his clique rowdy and yelling at his side.

The townie girl runs to his side and tackles him into a hug, he responds to her as positively as he does to Petey and the jealous thrums back, in ruining what _could_ have been an exciting moment. He’s still excited deep down, because Jimmy is back and undefeated and he has plans.

Summer comes quickly and he’s still stuck on the sidelines, trailing after Jimmy as he roams with Petey and Zoe. He learns his school schedule, learns how he prefers to sit, learns _lots_ of little things about Jimmy he didn’t have the time to appreciate beforehand. Peanut keeps him stable, prevents him from tipping overboard into much _weirder_ territories, but he’s still watching. Jimmy notices at times, isn’t stupid enough to _not_ see Johnny’s apparent infatuation with him. That’s all he sees it as, and Johnny isn’t sure himself what it is. Jimmy is terrifying, strong and capable and set out to do whatever he so desires. He runs the school - not unfairly - and he knows it. What Johnny feels towards him is indescribable but just as hungry. It wanted Lola and now it wants Jimmy.

Jimmy doesn’t seem opposed to Johnny trailing after him, either like a lost puppy or a personal bodyguard, seems to enjoy it really. He likes turning to find Johnny staring after him, likes when Johnny offers to carry his books for him, to get him dinner, to get him a drink, he pampers him and Jimmy flourishes under it.

His clique notices, of course they do, and they watch their king act like a lovestruck fool for him, dropping whatever he was doing to cater to any whim Jimmy had. Peanut warns him, is the only one to do so verbally, to not get in so deep he was drowning. Peanut, of course, doesn’t know that his heads been under the water for months now.

Jimmy, burning with contentment, flirts with him. It’s simple, silly stuff, Lola’s words of _“love is complicated”_ flash back into his mind. Jimmy isn’t trying to hurt him, not like Lola. He flirts with everyone as just part of who he is. Johnny gets jealous all the same, he wants Jimmy’s eyes on him, acts out and does more to get it, and people still pull him away. Maybe, he wonders, if Jimmy _knew_ he was serious. Lola knew he was serious, and she still took advantage of that, but Jimmy doesn’t seem like Lola. And yet, he could be.

Johnny grimaces.

One day, one brave-stupid day, Johnny flirts back. Jimmy’s laughing, amused by some little thing he had done, and teasingly he says something; something that Johnny wouldn’t remember later because he was so busy memorizing the way Jimmy’s  lips twisted into a grin.

“Anything for you sweetie.” He coos back and _immediately_ he falters. His eyes go wide and he’s staring at Jimmy who mirrors the expression. He’s thinking of something, _anything_ to say to fix it when that grin comes back, vicious and playful.

“Keep it up, _stud_.”

Johnny leaves as soon as he can, melting against a wall, face a vibrant red. He’s in hell, Jimmy is the devil and it is the sweetest torture he can think of.

Jimmy is on Johnny’s mind all the time, what he’s doing, how he is, if he’s getting into fights or taking care of himself. He’s there are all of Jimmy’s races anymore, either participating or cheering on from the sidelines, watching _his_ king kick everyone’s asses. Jimmy gloats when he wins, always does, and Johnny for once finds it within himself to ignore any snide comments thrown his way about being Jimmy’s dog. He’ll gladly bark for him, no questions asked.

“Haven’t seen you in here for a bit.” Neil says to him after Johnny makes an appearance at the auto-shop, looking for Jimmy. Jimmy’s there of course, he’s done enough work around the shop to pass the class _without_ actually having to do the classes. He does the classes anyway, that’s something Johnny likes about him too. Jimmy’s more than dedicated to his classes, and the ones he’s bad at he gets help with. A’s and B’s across the board, an impressive display.

He doesn’t offer to help much, just passes tools and things to Jimmy with Neil keeping an eye on him. He’s close to Neil, has to be with the way his clique crawls all over his class, but Johnny doesn’t understand things well right off the bat, so Neil gets frustrated with him quick. He doesn’t get frustrated with Jimmy - also something Johnny admires - he praises Jimmy instead, leaving him on his own to work for the most part.

Jimmy’s smiles are lopsided but genuine, often confused with a smirk, he lives for those smiles.

They leave the auto-shop together much later, it’s just them, the way Johnny likes it. Jimmy teases him eagerly, and they fall into it together, pet names flying and _suggestive_ comments that never go anywhere tinting the conversation more colorful.

Jimmy finally mentions it, rounds up all that Johnny does; helping him, getting him food, making sure he’s safe, guarding him.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that to win me over.” And it’s so teasing, so light, and the setting sun is reflecting orange across his hazel eyes and Johnny - so stunned, so _caught_ without Jimmy even having to try - stops.

“What would I have to do to win you over?” His voice is quiet, stumbling over itself and so _raw_.

That stops Jimmy. Jimmy who finally, _finally_ looks at him, like he’s seeing him for the first time. The dormant fire in his gaze sparks just enough for Johnny to feel see through. They’re standing there in the parking lot, the world absent of anyone but them.

Jimmy, by his own admission, only gives people what they have coming to them; punch for a punch, blow for blow, bully for bully.

Honesty for honesty.

He faces him head on with a strength Johnny has _always_ envied before Jimmy swallows. It’s gratifying for Johnny, finally Jimmy understands how he feels around him: exposed and nervous.

Nothing ever holds Jimmy back for long, nothing could. Johnny forgets how to _breath_ when Jimmy steps close, finally in his personal space for something _other_ than punching him, before putting one hand lightly on his jacket.

“Just be yourself.”

Johnny’s throat is tight as he looks down at him, Jimmy’s serious gaze meeting his own nervous one. _‘Be myself.’_ Johnny wonders, mind flashing back to _Lola_ and the claws she still has dug into him.

He almost wants to laugh, hurt and burned.

Being himself had never been an option, but for Jimmy, he could try to be.

Johnny asks Jimmy out a week later, nervous and terrified. Jimmy, flashing a smile that Johnny _lives_ to see, agrees.

Together, they see an action movie and pick up dinner afterwards, walking and talking all the way back to the dorm. It’s fluttery, easy, and feels _right_. Johnny asks him out again a week or two later and to his complete and utter surprise - Jimmy says yes, _again_.

They go on a few more dates, and when Johnny finally asks the _big_ question, Jimmy wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down so that their noses are almost touching.

“Are you kidding?” He snorts in response to Johnny’s question. “Of course I want to be your boyfriend.”

Johnny’s on cloud 9 as it is, arm wrapped around Jimmy’s waist and lingering at his side more often than not. He doesn’t want to compare Jimmy to Lola, but she’s still fresh in his mind, so when someone that Jimmy flirted with rolls around, making a joking but suggestive comment, he steels himself for Jimmy to respond.

He does, but not the way Johnny thought he would. Instead of flirting _back_ , Jimmy brushes it off, completely ignoring the comment and pressing closer to Johnny’s side, making his meaning quite clear.

_“I’m taken, buzz off.”_

Lola, who would flirt even when curled up in his lap, is hard to get out of his mind. Jimmy is so opposite it’s startling.

 _“Okay,”_ Johnny thinks, _“maybe he’ll only do it in private then.”_

He finds out that _not_ the case a month later when he overhears Jimmy _growl_ “Fuck off” through the thin walls of the tenements to a stray townie while waiting on Johnny to come out. That confuses him even more. He doesn’t know what game Jimmy’s playing at, so he intends to find out.

He broaches the topic carefully one night, when Jimmy is using his shoulder as a pillow and they’re channel surfing on the shitty t.v. in the boys dorm. It’s somewhere between 2am and 3am on a Saturday, Jimmy’s tired but not asleep, content in his spot.

“You stopped.” And if that isn’t vague as hell.

“Stopped what?” Jimmy asks, after a few seconds, shifting against his side and yawning. If Johnny weren’t so dead-set on getting to the bottom of things, he’d call him cute.

“Flirtin’ with other people.”

Jimmy looks up at him, brow furrowed and trying to get his sleepy mind running again. “And?”

“Well,” Johnny trails off, looking towards the photo of Dr. Crabblesnitch pinned up against the wall. “Why?”

“Because we’re dating?” How Jimmy manages to be sassy even while exhausted is _beyond_ Johnny.

“Yeah...  but Lola never--”

Tired curiosity flashes to rage and Jimmy sits up, turning to face him with his face set into an angry expression. For a moment, Johnny’s sure it’s directed at _him_ and he wonders what he did wrong _now_ but Jimmy’s hands are more than gentle when they come up to cup his face.

“Johnny.” His voice is even, calm even in the face of rage. “I, sure as hell, am not Lola.”

Johnny flinches anyways, like his words are attacking him.

“She was never good for you, and she never treated you right.”

It’s always the emotional shit-show talks that happen at early hours, Johnny can feel his throat go tight. There’s no joking light in Jimmy’s eyes, no twitch that would tell him that Jimmy was fucking with him. Only a fierce protective, _ugly_ feeling that Johnny would ever be reduced to this by someone he loved.

“I will _never_ treat you like that.”

Jimmy spends the rest of the night in Johnny’s lap, dozing and nuzzled up under the greaser’s chin with Johnny’s arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight. Johnny doesn’t cry, but _god_ does he come close.

Johnny _loves_ Jimmy’s smiles, any expression on his face draws his attention, flickering smiles, smirks, grins and the cocky expression that looks so _right_ on Jimmy’s face. It’s only fair that he loves the feeling of his lips.

Jimmy’s content with Johnny occupying the space between his legs, the both of them pressed together on Jimmy’s bed after a study session gone awry. Jimmy gives easily, teasing just enough to make the chase fun before he lets Johnny in. Warm and soft, they pull away from each other only for air, those moments spread few and far in-between. His lungs are pressing _ever_ so slightly but he’s more than willing to stay against him. Jimmy hums when they pull away again, dipping close to kiss the corner of Johnny’s lips in a way that has his head _spinning_. Jimmy is still a little shit, and he runs his fingers through Johnny’s hair, fucking up the way he had it slicked back and laughing at the results. Johnny kisses him silent, loving the way that Jimmy’s lips feel grinning against his.

They don’t go any further than that for _months_ and Johnny’s perfectly fine with that, enjoying the slow pace that Jimmy sets. Even if that means he has to duck out Jimmy’s room every couple of nights, darting for the bathroom in the boys dorm to attend to some _pressing_ issues.  He barges into Jimmy’s room one night, Jimmy flinches just on instinct, jerking for the blankets or _something_ to cover himself with and Johnny freezes. It’s so easy for him to forget that Jimmy’s trans. Slowly, once he realizes who it is, Jimmy relaxes and comes back into himself.

“Knock next time asshole.” He huffs, no real bite behind it as Johnny slowly closes the door.

Jimmy’s still fully clothed, in his boxers and a sleep shirt, but this is Johnny’s first time seeing the rise of his chest and that is a milestone all in itself.

“Sorry.” Is all he manages to say, honest and earnest. He really didn’t mean to.

Jimmy softens all the same and shrugs, beckoning him closer and into bed with him. Johnny dumps his jacket and shirt on the floor, kicking off his shoes before crawling in next to him. They figure out their positions on the small bed - Johnny on his back, with Jimmy curled next to him, using his chest as a pillow - and Johnny falls asleep staring at his old jacket, nailed against the fucking wall.

Jimmy _why._

A few months later, Johnny is standing in a convenience store, attempting to play it cool in line to buy condoms. He’s done it before, he’ll do it again, better safe than sorry. The cashier eyes him. He sweats.

 _Jimmy_ , he comes to find out, is just as domineering in bed as he is in life. They’re in the beach house, Jimmy seemingly comfortable in his position on top of his boyfriend. They’re just kissing for the time being, but they’re planning on more. Jimmy’s _still_ teasing him even when he peels his binder off and drops it on the floor, yanking his shirt back on and sliding wet boxers down his legs before they’re on the floor too.

Johnny’s a mess, a very, _very_ turned on mess.

“How do you want to do this?” He cares more about Jimmy’s comfort than he does about getting off.

Jimmy just shrugs down at him, rolling his hips while he shifts on top of him. Johnny whimpers.

“You’re the expert here.”

“Am I?” Johnny questions, he knows Jimmy _used_ to flirt around a lot, has kissed a fair number of people.

“I’ve never done this before.” Jimmy says plainly, like they’re discussing the weather, but the faint heat in his cheeks lets Johnny know he is _not_ as unaffected as he’d like Johnny to think he is. Then Jimmy’s words catch up with him and everything that was saying _‘yes’_ in his body before is now _screaming_ it.

“Y-You’ve never--?”

“Nope.” Jimmy hums, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Okay.” Johnny says, swallowing, flustered beyond belief. His nails dig into Jimmy’s hips, as he slowly sits up, changing their position. He gets Jimmy under him, and while Jimmy’s stretching out and getting comfortable, Johnny finally kicks off the last of his clothing - his boxers - before getting back on top of him.

Jimmy is still smirking at him when he wraps his arms around Johnny’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him.

“Alright tough guy, show me what you’ve got.”

There’s lots of things he still doesn’t know about Jimmy, things he knows better than to pry about. The scars on his head, why he flinches when people yell, why he’s always so on guard. He doesn’t ask about any of these things, even though he _really_ wants to know.

It’s rare when Jimmy breaks down, either because it’s contained and done in private, or because he holds back everything. Jimmy can’t hold the world, but he tries to anyways. When Jimmy storms into the tenements, bloody knuckles and face already swelling with a bruise, ignoring the other greasers that _wisely_ don’t try to interact with him to storm into Johnny’s room, he knows something’s wrong. Jimmy doesn’t ask for help, even if he needs it, he’ll sit and bleed out to avoid being a burden. It’s something they’re working on, helping _both_ of them be vulnerable with each other. Jimmy marching in here looking like that took _a lot_. Johnny would _never_ turn him down like this. He’s not the best at dressing things but Peanut keeps first-aid on hand and Vance is already waiting outside his door with the supplies when opens up the door to yell for someone. He takes it gratefully and sets about helping his boyfriend put himself back together. It takes time, gentle touches, and a few kisses pressed against his forehead before Jimmy to come back to him, leaving the distant wasteland of his past and pushing back into the present to wrap Johnny’s arms around himself, pressing against his boyfriend’s chest. They never have to be anything when they’re with each other, Johnny doesn’t have to be king, Jimmy doesn’t have to be strong, together they can just _be._

And slowly, they’re healing.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re going to be graduating this year.” Jimmy groans, watching the football game going on from the steps down to the football field.

“Aww sweetie, you sayin’ you’re gonna miss me?” Johnny teases, grinning prodding at his boyfriend.

Jimmy’s nose crinkles, playfully disgusted. “You wish. Who’s going to carry my books and get me lunch when you’re gone?”

Johnny laughs all the same, leaving his hand open for Jimmy to grab it, intertwining their fingers.

Johnny graduates without _much_ fanfare, his clique putting on _extra_ dramatics, bemoaning their king turning into a blue-collar worker. Johnny flips them off, grin stretched on his face. He doesn’t want to leave them either, but work calls and he skips into a job working under Tobias helping run the _Shiny Bikes_ store with ease.

Jimmy’s by just about every day, texting him when they’re not in person. Tobias is nice to him, often shooing him away from the counter whenever Jimmy came into view through the shop window.

“Get out.” He huffed, gruff but still playful, one of the reasons the greasers loved him so much. “You’re scaring off my customers with your lovey-dovey schtick.”

* * *

“I can’t wait to get out of here.” Jimmy tells him one night, in a bitter mood. “I hate this town.”

“Only a year before you graduate.” Johnny reminds him, some fear clinging to him. They’ve worked so close together, but Jimmy wants to leave. Johnny can’t blame him, he’s not too fond of Bullworth either, but where would Jimmy go?

Jimmy doesn’t respond to that, just takes an angry sip of his soda and stews.

Jimmy graduates and the school mourns the loss of the king but eagerly sends him on his way. Johnny’s lingering in the doorway while Jimmy packs up his stuff, knot deep in his throat. His hands feel clammy.

“So you’re leaving, huh?” He asks, voice quiet. Jimmy doesn’t stop packing.

“That’s the plan, I can’t yet though.”

That catches him off guard. Johnny really doesn’t know where Jimmy’s going with this. “Why’s that?”

 _Then_ Jimmy looks up to face him, meeting his gaze with the same kind of honest softness that’s pulled Johnny through some of the hardest moments of his life. “I haven’t asked you to come with me yet.”

Johnny blanks, flusters, re-calculates, and repeats the process again while Jimmy _laughs_.

“Did you really think I’d leave without you, greaseball?”

Johnny looks away and of course Jimmy is right there in his space, holding his face and making him look back at him. He still has to stand on his tiptoes to kiss him.

“I’m planning on taking my car,” - Jimmy’s senior project, Neil let him fix up and _keep_ a car. - “you, and getting the hell out of here.”

Johnny wraps his arms around his waist, swaying them both side to side. Tobias has been good to him the past year, he’s sure he’ll understand.

“Where are we going?” He asks, breathless and _sure._

“Wherever.” Jimmy hums, unconcerned. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine.”

The feeling’s mutual, but Johnny doesn’t tell him that. He kisses him instead.

An eternity of _rights_ pass before they pull away again, Johnny returning Jimmy’s grin.

“I guess I better start packing then.”


End file.
